


I love you more than anything

by iron_spider



Series: I love you more than anything (bio dad au) [12]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bio dad au, Gen, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Precious Peter Parker, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:53:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29344656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iron_spider/pseuds/iron_spider
Summary: They have played hide and seek. A lot. Hours and hours’ worth, in fact, to the point where Tony pretty much knows all of Peter’s hiding spots, thankfully, and when he rushes to go hide in his room, Tony makes sure the door to the laundry room is firmly fucking locked and closed.They go back and forth for four rounds when it happens.Tony checks everywhere. Under the table, under the sink, under the beds, behind the desk, in the crib, under the blankets, behind the curtains—everywhere. Everywhere.And he can’t find him.
Relationships: Happy Hogan & Peter Parker & Tony Stark, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: I love you more than anything (bio dad au) [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1671484
Comments: 43
Kudos: 537





	I love you more than anything

Peter’s teeth have been bothering him, and there’s more crying than not nowadays, so Tony tries to keep him occupied. The kid has enough toys from his birthday to keep him busy for the next couple of years, but, more than anything, he’s been getting more and more into games. Not board games, not any of his battery-operated shit. He likes building blocks, but he prefers games where he’s got Tony on his toes, completely in charge, practically in teacher mode. He likes it when Tony is the main attraction, not doing work, or being on the phone, or dedicating attention to anything but him. 

Patty cake, airplane, make believe, telephone, tons of shit that Rhodey insists on hearing every detail about because he truly cannot believe it. Tony tries to put as much learning in there as possible, talking Peter’s ear off, pointing and explaining and turning it into one of his long, drawn out board meetings. But, more fun. Or so Peter thinks.

Or so Tony _hopes_. But he takes all the laughter and giggling as a good sign.

“What are you doing?” Pepper’s voice asks, from the speaker phone on the couch. “Why do you sound so out of breath?”

“Uh, helicopter baby,” Tony says, rushing around the coffee table and over towards the bookshelf. “Helicopter baby slash working out my arms because they’re one in the same.”

She snorts. “Are you still coming here at three or should I come to you?”

“No, no, we’ll be there,” Tony says, holding Peter up, almost high enough to touch the ceiling, and Peter reaches, giggling. “With bells on. Literally, because I got Peter that necklace.”

“Perfect, we’ll hear him coming,” Pepper says. “Alright, I’ll see you then.”

“See you then, Potts,” Tony says. Jarvis ends the call for him before he needs to ask, and Tony proceeds to make the helicopter noises he was making before she called. “Alright, alright, we’re cleared for a landing,” he says, as if he’s talking through a radio. He dips Peter down, spinning around in a circle, round and round and round, heading for the carpet right in front of the TV. “Petey Pie is landing, I repeat, Petey Pie is landing—”

“Dada! Dada fly!” Peter yells, arms stretched out and feet kicking.

“Making our descent,” Tony says, and then speeds it up, rocketing him down, and Peter laughs and screams with happiness as Tony lands him on his tummy. He lays down next to him and starts tickling him relentlessly, grabbing his hand and kissing each finger. “He made it. He made it. Let all passengers off! Next stop, the Grand Canyon.”

“Dada! Dada! Dada!” He pushes himself into a sitting position. 

Tony follows suit, sitting up too. “What?” he asks, stopping to look at him. “What, huh?”

“Hide seek,” Peter says. He pushes on Tony’s knee a couple times, and braces his hands there to stand. “Hide seek! Seek!”

“You’re wearing me out, bug,” Tony says, tilting his head at him.

“Hide! Seek!” Peter takes two steps forward and grabs Tony’s face. Then he yells, and jumps up and down, laughing. “Hide seek! Hide seek, dada!”

“Fine, crazy person,” Tony says, tugging him in and kissing his cheek a couple more times for good measure. Hide and seek is good for counting, anyway. Soon enough he’ll be able to do that, too.

Yeah, his kid’s a genius. It is what it is.

“Okay,” Tony says, pulling back and patting Peter on the hip. He tries to keep a routine with these games, so Peter will learn the words, get the meanings. He had to do an extra layer of baby proofing when they started hide and seek, because his paranoia knows no bounds. “Go hide. Go hide. Daddy’s gonna count.”

They have played hide and seek. A lot. Hours and hours’ worth, in fact, to the point where Tony pretty much knows all of Peter’s hiding spots, thankfully, and when he rushes to go hide in his room, Tony makes sure the door to the laundry room is firmly fucking locked and closed. 

They go back and forth for four rounds when it happens.

Tony checks everywhere. Under the table, under the sink, under the beds, behind the desk, in the crib, under the blankets, behind the curtains—everywhere. Everywhere.

And he can’t find him.

“Petey?” Tony asks, heart hammering a little faster as he starts down the hall for the second time. “Alright now. Gimme a hint.”

Peter hasn’t yet learned that ‘gimme a hint’ means say something, yell out, anything to give away his location, and he stays silent. 

“Peter!” Tony yells, and he starts looking places he doesn’t normally look. In his own closet, in his bed under the covers, in the bathroom closet, behind the toilet, in the kitchen pantry. He checks the laundry room a few times even though it was absolutely one hundred percent closed and locked, and Tony turns around in a circle in the hallway. Grips his chest. Tries not to have a heart attack.

“Peter! Peter! Where are you? Where are you? Come out now, baby! Come out!” Tony’s voice is going in and out like he’s going through puberty again, and he rushes through the house and starts sweeping through everything, throwing shit around, chastising himself for throwing shit around because Peter could be hiding under said shit, and Tony is breathing hard and then he can’t breathe, he can’t breathe, he’s panicking—

Should he call someone?

Who would he call? Pepper, Rhodey? May would murder him. Should he call the fire department? The police? The fucking National Guard? 

He checks the laundry room five more times. Nearly falls face first into the washing machine. 

He’s not there _he’s not there—_

“Peter?” Tony yells, stumbling back out into the hall again, and he lets out a sob he can’t stifle because this can’t be happening, his baby is fucking disappeared, somehow, and he can’t find him, he’s lost, he fell into a fucking black hole or something because Tony’s looked everywhere, _everywhere_ , and he’s not here, he can’t find him, he can’t find him.

Tony hasn’t felt like this in a long time. Like he’s been hit by a fucking truck, like he can’t latch onto a single thought, can’t find a way out of this. He searches and he searches and he calls for him and _what the fuck happened what happened oh my god oh my fucking god_

He braces his hand on the wall, and his panic is so visceral at this point that he sinks down to the ground, ready to seep through the earth, through the ground, because he fucked up the one important thing he had, _somehow, because how does one lose their own goddamn baby in their own goddamn house?_ No open windows, everything safe and yet _where is he?_

This is why. This is why nobody trusts him. And they shouldn’t. Can’t even play a game with his kid without managing to let him vanish into thin air, and this is like acid in his mouth, his veins, the pit of his stomach—

“Peter,” Tony says, voice ragged and pathetic, and he feels like he’s gonna puke. He sucks in a breath and it’s half a sob, and his eyes are burning. “Peter, please, _please, come out—”_

And then he toddles out, from Tony’s bedroom. 

Peter. 

In the flesh. 

Right there. 

His brows are furrowed in what looks like concern, and somehow he looks cuter than he ever has before. Standing there in his overalls, pouting, his hair a mess. Clutching his hands in front of him like he thinks he’s done something wrong.

The relief. Is. Beyond anything Tony has ever felt before, and he nearly collapses underneath it. “Oh my God,” he breathes, the words cut by another sob he tries to stifle, and as soon as Peter hears it, his face crumples. 

Tony starts crawling over to him, and Peter starts _sobbing._

“There you are,” Tony breathes, trying to get to him as fast as he can, and now Peter is standing there crying and holding his hands out towards Tony and that simply cannot stand. “Oh my god, monkey, you scared me half to death.” Tony gathers him up and Peter immediately clings to him, muffling his crying in Tony’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. You _scared me_. You’re too good at this game, Petey, you’re just too good. You’re too good of a hider.”

Peter keeps crying and Tony feels like _shit_ , but he’s also so, so glad he’s not gone anymore, and he came out of the bedroom and Tony had looked in the bedroom and he’s gonna wonder forever and ever where the hell he was in there.

“I’m sorry, monk,” Tony says, hugging him tight and rubbing his back. “I’m sorry, you’re the winner, you are, you’re too good.” He tries to pull back and look at him, but Peter holds on tight and buries his face in Tony’s neck, refusing to let go. Tony kisses his head a couple times, and wavers to his feet. “Okay. That’s okay. Let’s go. Sit. Let’s go sit down and recoup and not tell anybody about this ever.”

~

Except it’s nearly impossible to get Peter to recoup. Usually he bounces back from things really easily, but he won’t let go of Tony no matter how much time passes, and by the time they’ve gotta get in the car and go meet Pepper, he’s still not over it.

“What’d you do to him, Boss?” Happy asks, trying to talk over Peter’s hysterical crying.

“We had an unfortunate game of hide and seek and he has yet to recover,” Tony says, leaning over close to him and holding onto both of his hands. 

“He couldn’t find you?”

Tony winces. “Uh, couldn’t find him. And then I started freaking out and he—did not enjoy that.”

Happy just laughs, and Peter keeps crying. He doesn’t exactly seem _angry_ at Tony. Actually, it’s the opposite. He holds onto his hands and tries to tug him closer. He just wants to be held.

Tony tries to decipher what he’s upset about. Was it because he thought he was in trouble? Was it because he was alone for so long? Didn’t think Tony was gonna find him? It could be any number of those things. He doesn’t have enough words to articulate yet and Tony really doesn’t have the patience when Peter’s got problems and he can’t solve them for him. 

“Dada,” Peter says, his face contorted in an exaggerated frown, and he squeezes Tony’s hands periodically. “Dada.”

Tony leans over, nuzzling their noses together. Peter stops crying and he closes his eyes, heaving a big sigh. “Love you, crazy. You’re okay, munchkin. We’re all good.”

~

Tony tells Pepper everything about what he’s beginning to call _the event_. Peter doesn’t want to be on the ground, or in his playpen, and he doesn’t want any of his toys. He’s never been a pacifier kid but Tony tries just in case he has a change of heart, but Peter just pushes it away and snuggles up closer in his arms. He’s not crying anymore, thankfully, now that Tony is holding him, and he’s talking to himself. His tone is, strangely, very stern, and there aren’t very many English words in there.

“And I probably would have had a heart attack if he hadn’t popped back out like that,” Tony says, patting Peter’s back. “But now he’s been like this since and screaming crying when I put him down.” He cracks his jaw and gives her a look. “Why do you think?”

“Why do I think?” she asks, looking like she has a lot of thoughts as she moves around behind his desk, putting the blueprints down. “I think that he’s never seen you freak out and get upset like that and it weirded him out. Babies are protective too, especially of their primary caregivers. You were crying?”

“Uh,” Tony says, clearing his throat. “Yes.”

“Like, distressed crying.”

“Distressed is a very apt way to put it,” he says. 

“Yeah, he’s upset you were upset and he wants to be there for you,” Pepper says, raising her eyebrows at him and smiling. “He realizes you were upset when he was gone and he doesn’t want to—be gone. He wants to be as close as possible.”

A wash of love and sadness and all kinds of other shit falls over Tony in that moment, and he rolls his eyes at himself, holding Peter tighter. “Uh, what did I ever do to deserve _that?_ Because that—that’s too—that’s a lot, I can’t handle that. I can’t handle that.”

“It’s just what I think,” Pepper says, sitting down and smiling at him. “And you deserve it because you give him constant, constant love and he feels that, Tony. Please.”

Tony sighs. He doesn’t know where all this love came from, but then again he does—it flooded into the world with Peter, and it filled him up as soon as he held his son in his arms.

He sits down in the closest chair and pulls Peter back before he can get a good grip on him. Peter frowns, trying to grab at him again, but Tony holds him up on his knees.

“Dada.”

“Pete,” Tony says. “You’re my favorite person on the whole planet. I love you more than anything. I’m okay. Dada fine. Dada _good_. Dada was just worried about you but you are good so we are good. Okay? Okay? Promise. Cross my heart. I love you to death, you’re the cutest thing in the world, you’re too young to be worrying about me. Leave the worries to me, okay? No worries for you. We’re good. We’re _good.”_

“G—good,” Peter says, sounding it out. He blinks at him. “Good?”

“Good. Happy.” Tony grins to illustrate Happy. “Okay? Okay?”

Peter babbles and doesn’t seem convinced. Tony is head over heels and he can’t believe he—he of all people—was lucky enough to receive this little angel. 

“Come here, monkey brain,” Tony says, tugging him in and tickling him. Peter starts writhing and giggling, and Tony catches sight of Pepper watching them, smiling to herself. Tony’s chest goes warm and he starts kissing Peter’s cheek. “I love you, worry wart. I love you, hide and seek champion.”

More than _anything._


End file.
